The World Falls Dark
by littlemissnerdgirl
Summary: Clementine never found Christa and Omid after Lee died. Since then, she's been on her own. Now a hardened, heartless survivor, it seems as if no one can save Clementine from herself...that is, until she meets not one, but two unlikely people who tear down her facade. (Clem is 18) READERS MAKE CHOICES
1. I Don't Come In Peace

**A/N Welcome to 'The World Falls Dark'. No, this story isn't poetry, and it's not spiritual either. It's drama, tragedy, adventure, horror, angst, humor, friendship, hurt/comfort, suspense, crime, and a little romance as the fries on the side ;) Literature recently had a bit of a "Love Triangle Renaissance" with Twilight and The Hunger Games, so now they're kinda looked upon as cliché. But I still think they're beautiful. Keep in mind, this isn't going to revolve completely around the romance, there's other aspects of a story that are way more important. I will try to make it satisfying enough! **

**This will be written from the marvelous Clementine's POV,with the possible exception here and there. I'll include some readers' choices that help tailor aspects of the story, because that's always fun! **

**The story awaits!**

**…**

They say third time's the charm, but that's only if you get two strikes beforehand. In my case, the third time was just another go at something I already achieved

I approached the cabin with the same goal in mind as both the other times: get in, get supplies, get out. Not a very difficult task, especially since their group was so clueless. I mean, they didn't even do anything about the big hole in their porch that led straight inside the cabin. It made it easy for me to just slip in and out in a flash.

I squeezed through the lattice, and next thing I know, I was under the cabin. It wasn't paradise down here. Dirt was all the ground had to offer, and strips of wood were over my head. Bugs scurried at my feet, I even saw a rat last time. There was a whole bunch of junk too, including various knick knacks, old china, and a Polaroid camera. I wonder what all this stuff was doing down here.

It was a trapdoor that led into the cabin itself. I had broken my knife trying to get it open the first time around, but at least it budged. I couldn't hear any footsteps or conversation above me, so I took that as a good sign, and made my way inside.

I found myself in a dark entryway with a door on one side. It was a rather odd room. I wasn't familiar with many houses that had trapdoors, but this place had a room that was clearly dedicated to one. I slowly opened the door and peered into the living room. Nothing stood out to me. Everything looked the same as I remembered; wooden walls, plaid furniture, fireplace roaring. The coast was clear.

The other times I've been here, majority of the group were asleep, except for this one old guy who stayed on watch (so much for that). I would've waited until nightfall, but I was too freaking hungry to hold stand by for that long.

I snuck into the kitchen with my gun at reach, just in case one of them caught me. I found the cabin after following the older fella and another guy. He had dark hair that went over his ears, and wore a baseball hat similar to mine. I couldn't really tell what he looked like other than that because all I saw was the back of his head. The two idiots didn't even notice me, and led me straight to their hideout. I heard snippets of their conversation, and they didn't seem too threatening, so that night, I decided to take my chances.

They had food scattered throughout the kitchen. The fridge was full of frozen meat – mostly fish – and the cupboards contained oatmeal, cereal, and granola bars. On the counter was canned food; beans, fruit, vegetables, etc. How did they have so much?

If someone told me I'd be doing this two years ago, I would've laughed and said, "Yeah, right." Yet here I was, sneaking into a cabin, stealing beans. Before Lee died, I wouldn't dare steal from anyone. To put in simpler words, I was a good person back then. But boy, did things ever change. After I put a bullet through his head, I went on by myself. He had told me to find Christa and Omid at the train, but when I got there, it was overrun. I spent two years on my own after that. People change under lonely circumstances. I think it'd be pretty safe to say, that I've changed.

After I loaded my backpack with enough food to last me a week, I decided that it was best not to stick around. I didn't know where the group was. It seemed strange that there was no sign of them being here. I headed for the door, but it wasn't me who opened it.

_Oh shit._

"Well, well, well..." My gaze was immediately drawn to two men. One was young, with wavy brown hair and eyes the color to match. He was muscular, and held a machete in his hand. The other was the same man I saw on watch. He didn't look quite as old up close, but his hair was gray, minus a few streaks of black here and there, and I could make out creases in his forehead. I noticed he carried the same crossbow that he kept when on watch.

I stood there frozen, unsure whether I should shoot them or not. They both had weapons in their hands, so the odds weren't exactly in my favor. Kill one, get killed, right?

"Hand over the gun," the younger one spoke sternly. His voice screamed southern. I did as I was told, and placed my gun in his free hand. "What do you think you're doing stealing our food?" _Surviving...? _is what I wanted to say, but I remained mute.

"Not a girl of many words, huh?" the older man said. "Can you at least tell us your name?" I shifted awkwardly, but still no words escaped from me. "You know, it's really not that hard. My name's Pete, and this is Luke." Why was he trying to engage in small talk with me? I mean, you just catch me stealing from you and all you want to know is my name?

"Clementine," I said finally.

"Clementine?" the guy with the machete – Luke – said. "Like the fruit?"

"No, like the vegetable," I responded sarcastically. _Yes, the fruit you fool._

Pete examined me with uncertainty. "I'm getting the others," he said.

"Wait!" I stopped him before he could leave. "We don't have to go any further with this. I can just return what I stole, and then I'll be on my way. You'll never have to see me again."

"And how can we be sure you won't come back?" Come to think of it, I probably would come back, only I'd be more careful next time.

I shrugged. "You can't. You can't be sure of anything these days." Pete's gaze shifted from me to Luke. Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say when on trial.

"So I reckon you're not with a group?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I guess there was no sense lying. "I'm not...and I don't want one either, so can we just put this behind us?"

"Hold up, fruit girl," Luke said, and I rolled my eyes. "We can't just put this behind us. You stole from us. We all thought it was someone in our group being greedy. Blamed him even."

Pete shook his head. "Nick's either gonna be really happy when he finds out he's in the clear, or he's gonna whine like a bitch. There's no telling with that boy." Something told me we were about to find out. "I'll be right back. Watch her, Luke."

With that, Pete left, and I was stuck with Luke. His machete being back in its sling, he tapped his fingers on the door frame. I tried to put aside the fact that he was really attractive. Shit like that didn't matter these days.

"So how long you've been at it for?" he asked.

I mentally groaned. "Does it matter?"

"No, not really, but it ain't gonna hurt ya to tell."

With a sigh, I responded, "A couple weeks."

"Damn, you eat light. I didn't think you'd been stealing enough to last that long."

"Yeah, well we can't afford to binge-eat now that the world's gone to shit." Their food didn't sum up my entire appetite. I left the part out about me eating any animal that crossed my path. Deer, birds, once I even ate a dog. I didn't feel bad about it. Not after reading the name Sam on his collar. Not after roasting him on a spit. Not after eating every last bit of him. Nothing fazed me anymore. Two years ago, I wouldn't even consider such a sin. I used to love dogs. I used to love a lot of things.

Pete soon returned with five unfamiliar faces. There was a pregnant lady with skin a few shades darker than mine, and wild short hair. The thing that really stood out about her was the large bump on her stomach; she was clearly pregnant. Beside her, stood a man. He was dark as well, and rather big – not fat, just..._big – _and he wore these square glasses. A stern looking Hispanic man had his hand rested on the shoulder of a girl with raven colored hair and rose-tinted glasses. She looked to be a few years younger than me. Finally, my gaze fixed on a tall, lanky guy holding a rifle. He was young, and had these icy blue eyes that I was immediately drawn to. I've definitely seen that brown hat he was wearing before. I came to the conclusion that this was the guy I saw walking with Pete.

"Who the hell is this?" the pregnant lady growled. Hormones acting up?

"Her name's Clementine," Pete said.

"Like the fruit!" the teenage girl pointed out with a smile, earning her a scowl from the man above her.

"That's what I said!" I found myself rolling my eyes at Luke once more.

"What's she doing here?" the guy with the rifle asked.

"Caught her stealing food from us."

His blue eyes widened. "I told you it wasn't me!" He sounded really bitter. I'm guessing this was Nick?

The pregnant lady turned to me with a cold glare fixed on her face. "We need to get rid of this bitch!"

"Now hold on, Rebecca!" Pete stepped in. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Damn right. Unless she pulls out all that food and hands it right back."

"That's a little harsh," the big black guy added.

"Speak for yourself, I'm eating for two!"

The Hispanic man finally said something: "I don't agree that we should kill her, but we can't have her running loose after knowing what she's capable of."

This turned a few heads.

"Carlos is right," Pete said. "Luke? Nick? Why don't you escort her to the shed?" He placed a hand on my shoulder, which I swatted away immediately.

Shed? I didn't wanna go in no shed! They don't know how good they got it! I've been going on a nearly empty stomach for ages now, and here were these people in their cozy little cabin with full bellies. I'm sure if they were in my shoes, stealing would be on their list of priorities too.

"It'd be an honor," Nick, muttered, his tone coated with sarcasm.

The two men stepped closer to me. Luke extended his arm, as if saying, "Right this way." I headed towards the door.

The cool air nipped away at my skin. It was starting to get cold now that winter was approaching. If I kept a somewhat accurate count, it was mid-November.

As we walked in silence, I tried to match names with faces. I was already sure about Nick, Luke, and Pete. If I remembered correctly, the prego's name was Rebecca, and the Hispanic man went by Carlos. That left the big black guy, and the little girl.

When we reached the small, wooden shed, Nick gave me a nudge with his rifle. Stupid fucking rifle. I gritted my teeth. The last thing I felt like doing was spending the night in a shed. Who knows if it would only be a night? For all I know, they could keep me in there until I starve to death! My options were all pretty grim. I didn't have a weapon, so the only way out of this would be making a run for it.

Only just then, did Luke drop the gun he'd taken from me. It landed an equal distance away from the both of us.

A twisted thought ran through my head: _I could snatch_. _I could snatch it, and then blow their brains out. That would things a whole lot easier. _Time seemed to be going slow. I had two options, but the shed was neither of them.

[TAKE THE GUN]

[MAKE A RUN FOR IT]

**…**

**A/N Hope you all liked the first chapter! Leave your vote in the reviews, but also tell me what you thought! I know it was kinda weird, Clem eating a dog and all. Sorry about that! This will probably be posted around 1am my time. What can I say? I'm a night owl. (Or a morning person, depends on the way you look at it.) Anyway thanks for reading! peeeace**


	2. Go And Don't Come Back

**A/N Hello and welcome back to ma story! I'm not sure how often I'm going to update this but I'll get if figured out. Thanks for all the reviews/votes! Really awesomeeee. Alright, let's keep this short. Story time!**

…

**[TAKE THE GUN)**

[MAKE A RUN FOR IT]

Before Luke could react, I broke out of my frozen stance and lunged for the gun. I nearly had my fingers wrapped around it when I felt a cold, hard blow to my face. I fell to the ground with a grunt, but quickly recovered and tried for the weapon again. Only I was too late.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Are you insane?" Nick yelled. He glared down at me with fierce eyes as I clutched the spot where he'd hit me with the back of his rifle.

"Maybe," I hissed, while trying to ignore the stinging sensation right below my eye.

"Were you gonna try and shoot us?" Luke asked. He didn't look angry like Nick, just shocked as hell. I watched him as he tucked the gun underneath his shirt.

Ignoring the question, I turned to the guy who hit me. "Is that how you treat a lady? Hit her in the face with the back of your gun?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Hey, you're lucky I didn't shoot you, bitch!"

"And now you're calling me a bitch?"

Before he could respond, the door to the cabin swung open. Rebecca marched out with fury, her mouth straightened and brows furrowed. The others followed behind; Pete looking concerned, Carlos looking neutral just like before, and the big guy (who I still didn't know what his name was) looking just plain confused. The only one who wasn't here was the teenage girl.

"What in the name of God is going on out here?" Pete shouted.

Rebecca didn't wait to jump in either. "This girl causing trouble? God damn, I knew she would..."

"If you consider trying to shoot us trouble, then yeah, she's causing a whole lot of fucking trouble!" Nick exclaimed.

Pete turned his gaze to Luke. "This true?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I just dropped my gun and then she tried to-"

Carlos cut him off before he could continue, "We have to kill her or do something to ensure that she won't be a threat to us. I can't have her running loose with my daughter inside."

As if on cue, the girl with the red-framed glasses and sleek black hair stepped onto the porch, her face more curios than frightened.

"Sarah, what'd I say? Stay inside." Carlos demanded. The young girl – who I now know as Sarah (and also Carlos's daughter) – did as she was told, and went back inside immediately. It was almost like she was never here.

"I agree with Carlos," Rebecca said with her hands on her hips. "We can't just let her go."

"But we can't kill her," the dark man beside her contradicted. "She's just a kid."

"I'm eighteen," I snapped, drawing all the attention back towards me.

"You see, Alvin?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I agree with Alvin," Luke said. "Killing her wouldn't make us any better than her. There's gotta be another solution."

Nick frowned at this. "Luke, she was gonna kill us both. Why the hell should we let her live?"

"Because we're the good guys here." Luke shifted his eyes over to me. "And we don't shoot people when things don't go our way."

I looked at Pete. The older man was rubbing the back of his head, as if trying to decide what to contribute to the debate. "You're the swing vote," I said to him tauntingly. Something about him said he wouldn't kill me. "You wanna keep me alive like Luke and Alvin, or do you wanna have me dead like Rebecca and dumbass over here?" I could see Nick close his fists out of the corner of my eye. "Your choice, Pete."

His jaw stiffened before giving his answer. "Nothing's changed," he said. "We lock her in the shed and we keep her there until she smartens up."

"Smarten up? What am I, five?

"I'd watch my tone, young lady. You're not exactly in the position to make snarky comments." I rolled my eyes at this. "Luke, take her to the shed, and this time, don't drop your gun." The younger man nodded in response. "And also take her backpack."

They all turned on their heels and headed back inside, leaving only Luke and myself. He walked me over to the shed. Although I was trailing along behind him, he kept a steady eye on me. I dug at my cuticles, making it seem like I was uninterested, unaffected by all this. I didn't feel desperate like the first time around. Staying in a shed would be an awful lot better than being dead. Maybe I should've ran. Maybe that way I could've gotten myself out of this mess.

Luke opened the door to the shed. I hesitated before stepping in, but I knew there was no way out of this. The door slammed shut behind me, and I was left alone in the dark.

…

It didn't take long before I got bored and began to scour the place. There wasn't anything interesting in here, unless you had a fascination for fishing, which someone clearly did. I dug through all the junk, and after sliding a tackle box out of the way, I came across a small hole in the wall, covered by a large slab of wood. Maybe this could be my way out.

I tugged on the wood with all my might, but it was nailed in there pretty tight. I needed a hammer or something to get it off with. And so my search continued. There was a shelf on the opposite wall. On top of it was a highlighter yellow handle. I walked over and jumped high so I could reach it. My fingers just barely wrapped around the handle. I grinned as I examined the hammer in my hand, and with it, I returned to the same place as before.

This time, instead of gripping beneath the wood, I hooked the back of the hammer onto each nail and they slipped them out one by one, without a hassle. With that, I squeezed through the tiny gap, my fist still closed around the helpful tool.

It was now dark outside. The cool air caught my face, as I rubbed my arms to keep them warm. I debated whether I should get out of here or go in the cabin and try to get my stuff back. Leaving was the easy way out, but I needed to think long-term. How long would I make it without any food? Without an actual weapon? I also had personal belongings in my backpack which I didn't want to leave behind, no matter how little importance they had. Screw those guys, I'm getting my stuff back.

I snuck across the yard, quickly but quietly so nearby walkers couldn't hear me. There was a couple wandering the nearby woods. The same route as always, I slipped under the porch and into the cold, damp soil. I would have to be very careful this time around. If I were to get caught, they might rethink their past decision, and then I'd be really screwed. All I had to do was find my backpack and maybe my gun if that was an option.

"House meeting in the kitchen!" I heard someone call from above me. I waited a few moments before going inside; enough time for everyone to settle into the kitchen. Once enough time passed, I crept inside the cabin, ready for whatever was waiting inside.

The cabin was quiet like earlier. I would've been more skeptical over this, only everyone was in the kitchen probably discussing what they should do with me. I walked in quietly, and because nosiness got the best of me, I pressed my ear against the kitchen door.

I heard Rebecca snarl, "_We can't keep her in that shed forever._"

"_We're not killing her_," Pete said. "_I thought I already made that clear._"

"_Maybe she can earn her way out._" This sounded like Luke.

"_And how do you suppose we do that?_" The deep, Spanish accent made it clear that it was Carlos.

"_Maybe we could-_"

"_Alvin, please!_"

The discussion didn't seem to be getting anywhere anytime soon, so I backed away from the kitchen door and wondered where I should go next.

…

The upstairs hallway was long and creaky. I was hoping that they wouldn't hear my footsteps through the wood. Everything went well so far. I got my gun back – found it lying on the coffee table in the living room. All I needed was my backpack.

I carefully opened the first door on my right. As the opening grew wide, I heard the gasp of a young girl. I readied the gun in my hand as a threat so she wouldn't scream. Her dark eyes were wide with terror.

"Please don't hurt me," Sarah pleaded, hopping off of the bed and clutching a book in her hand. She showed quite a resemblance to Carlos now that I could see her up close.

"I'm not," I said. "Just don't scream, okay?" She nodded, and I tucked the gun under my sweater.

"You're not supposed to be in here," she said, urgency in her tone.

I gave a small chuckle. "Yeah, no shit." She cringed at the swear. "Do you know where my bag is?"

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. "Why should I tell you?"

"Well...because the quicker you give it to me, the quicker I'll get out of here. And also, remember that I'm the one with the gun."

She frowned. "Follow me." I eyed her as she placed the book on the bed.

"What are you reading?" I asked.

"A book."

"No, really? I thought you were reading a cucumber."

"It's called the Guurgles. It's about trans-dimensional body snatchers."

"How cute."

She smiled, clearly not hearing the sarcasm in my voice. "We're friends, right?"

"What? No! I just met you, we're not friends."

"Please! I haven't met another girl my age since way before."

"We're not even the same age." I shook my head. "Sorry, but no."

Her head hung low. "Alright, fine. I get it," she said sadly. "Just leave me alone."

I stepped closer to her, making myself seem bigger to intimidate her. She was pretty tall for her age, as opposed to me, who just skimmed 5"2. "Listen Sarah, you're going to give me what I asked for unless you want me to tell your daddy I was up here socializing with you."

"Then I'll just tell him the truth," she responded, trying to keep her cool, but her voice was shaky. "I'll tell him how you barged into my room and demanded help."

"M hm, are you also gonna tell him the part where you ask me to swear allegiance to your friendship?" Her lips straightened. "And remember." I pointed to my waist where I kept my gun.

"Fine," she said. I obviously wasn't gonna shoot her (she's only a kid), but this girl seemed pretty gullible and easy to manipulate. She led me down the hallway, all the way to the room on the end. I followed her in, soon to discover my backpack sitting beside the bed. It's purple with two flowers on it; something that a little girl would like. I picked it up and looked inside to make sure that everything was still in there. Surprisingly, no one took out the food I stole from before. I smiled to myself.

"You're welcome," Sarah said.

I shot her a glare. "Why are you still here?"

She bit her lip. "Please go and don't come back," she said with hesitance.

"But I thought we were friends?" I said mockingly.

"Just go."

With that, Sarah returned to her bedroom, remembering to shut the door behind her, and I made my way down the stairs. I glanced over at the kitchen door. It was swinging as if someone had just pushed it open. I reacted quickly, and whipped out my gun. No one was in sight, but then I heard someone shout, "She has a gun!" I didn't have time to see who said it, but Nick rushed out of the kitchen with his rifle at hand. I wasn't certain whether he was going to shoot or not. Panic rushed through me. Should take my chances and put the gun down, or play it safe and pull the trigger?

I needed to make a decision fast. 

[SHOOT NICK]

[DON'T SHOOT NICK]

…

**A/N Vote for what you want Clem to do! Fun Fact: If you would've chose to make a run for it, Nick would've shot Clem in the leg. That way she would've been a victim rather than a savage muahahaha Leave a review if you liked this chapter (or didn't) THANKS FOR READING! peeeace**


	3. We Could Be Better

**A/N Hey, thanks for all the votes/reviews! I'll probably update this story more often because I'm really enjoying this one. I know Nick and Clem are a little OOC (more Clem than Nick) but there lies the opportunity for character development. I was very eager to write today (more eager than usual) so I offer you a fairly long chapter. Enjoy:) **

…

**[SHOOT NICK]**

[DON'T SHOOT NICK]

The way I see it, you gotta kill to survive, and if I didn't pull the trigger, that could be wasting my golden opportunity to make it out of here alive.

And so I did.

The shot rang out directly at Nick's head, but he reacted quickly; ducking as the bullet flew past him and went straight through the wall. I cursed under my breath, and just as I was about to have another go at it, Nick looked up at me and readied his rifle. His eyes were wide, lips shaped into an O. I jumped out of the way, but I couldn't dodge the bullet completely. A searing pain grew in the side of my leg, and I know that I've been shot. My heart began to beat incredibly fast now that my life was on the line. I couldn't bring myself to look at the wound, so instead I turned to Nick who couldn't believe what he's just done (at least that's what it looked like). He wasn't going to shoot again. I was positive of that.

Stupid. Fucking. Rifle.

"YOU FUCKING SHOT ME, YOU IDIOT! FIRST YOU HIT ME IN THE FACE AND NOW YOU FUCKING SHOOT ME!"

"DON'T MAKE ME LOOK LIKE THE BAD GUY! YOU WERE TRYING TO FUCKING SHOOT ME!"

"ONLY BECAUSE YOU WERE GOING TO FUCKING SHOOT ME!"

I clutched my leg in agony, unfamiliar to a pain this strong. The worse I've ever been hurt was when I sprained my angle in third grade. That didn't even compare to what I was feeling right now.

I hadn't noticed the others come in, but sure enough, everyone from the kitchen was standing before me with shocked expressions plastered across their faces. Even Sarah must have rushed down the stairs because she was clinging onto her father, frightened tears welling in her eyes.

I had to force back the tears myself; there was no way I would cry in front of these people, no matter how bad it hurt and how scared I was for my life. Luke quickly picked up the pistol I had dropped in the midst of the action, which had landed on the floor and out of my reach. He tucked it beneath his shirt like many times before, and turned to Carlos in an expectant manner. The Spanish man then nodded his head and approached me very slowly and carefully. When he was only inches away from me, I shot him a threatening glare.

"Don't touch me," I hissed. "I don't want any of you near me."

Maybe it was a little stubborn of me to say this, but what are you supposed to say when you've just been shot? It's not exactly something I rehearsed for, so my response lingered.

Carlos shook his head as he allowed for my words to set in. Surprisingly enough, he knelt beside me anyways and clearly said, "Now's not the time to prove a point."

"I don't trust you people," I replied, the stinging of my leg making my voice shaky.

"Don't push your luck!" Rebecca barked. Her face was back to its usual scowl. "We don't have any reason to keep you alive after what you did!"

My gaze turned to the round hole in the wall where my bullet burst through. Maybe I shouldn't have taken it to the extreme without being positive if Nick was going to do the same. _No_. I was only defending myself. What I did was smart, I just didn't carry it out in the best possible way. It was more like the worst possible way.

"Rebecca," Pete said to the pregnant woman with a look of warning.

"Clementine, just let Carlos take a look at it. He's a doctor," Luke insisted. I glanced up at him and he looked sincere. Plus, I found him more trustworthy than anyone else in the room. Except for Pete maybe. And so I half-shrugged and sat up the best I could to let Carlos examine the wound.

He rolled up my pant leg, which I could tell was soaked in blood. I clenched my teeth in pain as he ran his cold, rough hands along the surface of my skin. My breathing grew heavier the more he looked at it with an unreadable expression. He then pulled away.

"The bullet didn't go right through, but it's not very deep at all," he explained in his knowing Spanish accent. So the guy was a doctor...how convenient.

"Am I going to be alright?" I asked, realizing that I broke out into an anxious sweat.

"No major arteries were hit surprisingly enough," he answered simply. "You should be fine as soon as we get the bullet out."

"Take it out now," I said quickly.

"Now? Don't you want to-"

"I SAID NOW! Right now I'm not fine, and the sooner you get that bullet out, the sooner I'll be fine! I don't wanna be not fine!" If it wasn't obvious enough, I was panicking.

Carlos turned his head to the others and ordered Luke to go grab the first aid kit. He then said to his daughter, "Sarah, go upstairs. I don't want to you to see this." The young girl did as she was told right away, and scurried up the stairs, shooting me a quick sympathetic look before she was out of sight.

As we waited for Luke to return, Nick helped Carlos prop me up on the stairs so my leg was elevated and in a better position to be performed on. He looked annoyed to be helping the girl who attempted to shoot him only a couple minutes ago (who could blame him), but I could see some guilt swimming in his bright blue orbs. I don't understand why they didn't just kill me. Maybe they were even more forgiven than I thought.

Luke came back with the first aid kit along with some more supplies, but I was too out of it to care what they were. He rushed over to Carlos and I, and placed all of the stuff on top of one of the steps. The doctor observed me.

"This is going to hurt," he warned.

I sighed and shook my head. "Just get it over with." After that, I clamped both my eyes and mouth shut, and waited for the pain to begin.

The first thing I felt was something cold spreading both edges of my dead skin back so that the bullet could be removed. I gripped the wooden stairs as I bit on my tongue, hard enough to draw blood. Everyone was quiet. Even I was, which was saying a lot given the circumstance. I don't know why everybody decided to stay and watch the show, but I guess most people are immune to a little bit of gore these days.

"It's out," Carlos announced, sending a rush a relief through my system. _I'm fine now. _He must have known what I was feeling, because then he added, "You're not out of the woods yet. We still need to stop the bleeding." Then my mood lowered once again.

What came next was the peroxide, to which I hissed in pain as the liquid fizzed and dissolved into the wound. I finally took a look at my leg, but I had to turn away directly after. It was not pretty. I might've been able to handle it if it were someone else's and not my own.

"Are my bones shattered?" I asked as Carlos put the cap back on the peroxide.

"Not to worry," he replied, preparing a needle for the next part. "The muscle slowed the bullet down to an extant where your bones were unaffected. They might be bruised at the very most. You were lucky."

My chest lowered. "Good."

He repositioned himself on the steps, the way he was before; on an awkward angle considering I've been hit in the side of the leg. "One of you go grab her a glass of water please?"

In spite of that, I saw Alvin walk into the kitchen, earning a glare behind his back from Rebecca. The two must be married or something because why else would she get pissed?

I wasn't expecting it when Carlos plunged the needle into my leg, so I let out a cry of pain. "Ahh!"

"Sorry," he muttered as he tugged on the thread, closing the gash. It didn't hurt as bad as removing the bullet, but it still hurt like hell. Alvin returned with a glass of water for me, and I gave him a painful "thanks". I'm not sure how long Carlos was crouched there stitching my wound, until he finally rested the needle on the step and picked up a roll of bandages. There was a floral design on it which was kind of ugly, but at least it'd be covered by my jeans soon enough.

At last, the stitching was over.

Carlos had his back turned to me, so I took this as the opportunity to lift myself off the stairs. "Jesus Christ," I sputtered as soon as I put pressure on my injured leg. I quickly sat down.

He looked up at me with a small smirk. "You're going to need some time to heal up."

"How much time?" I asked with frustration as I slumped against the step.

"A while until you're fully healed," he told me. "I can't tell you exactly when you'll feel comfortable walking on it, but it should be a week as long as you get the proper care."

I nodded in understatement, but then I wondered where I'd be during the healing process. Were they going to let me stay with them for a bit? Were they going to toss me in the shed again? Or were they going to throw me out entirely on my own like the way things were before?

Rebecca broke out of her frigid stance and headed towards the stairs where I was sitting. Alvin – as if he was a magnet to the pregnant lady – followed behind her. I wonder how many months she was. The woman looked BIG.

Pete rested his hand on Nick's shoulder. From my limited observations, something told me they had a pretty tight relationship. The younger man had his head hung low. He probably feels shitty about what he did – serves him right!

"Come on," Pete said. "I wanna talk to you." And so the two exited the room, heading for the front door.

"So what now?" I asked Carlos, who was putting away his medical supplies.

He gave a small shrug. "Don't ask me," he said. "I'm not the leader." After he gathered all of his stuff and went upstairs, my gaze shifted to the last person in the room besides myself.

Luke.

…

I was sitting at the table, waiting for Luke to bring me back the oatmeal he insisted on making. I don't know why he was being so nice; first it was Carlos fixing my wound, and then Luke making me food? Something about it seemed a little off – I mean, I just tried to shoot their friend – but I was obviously in any position to object, so I took whatever help was offered to me.

The door swung open, and in walked Luke with two steaming bowls of oats in his hands. He wasn't smiling, but there was a certain sparkle to his eyes. I wasn't sure what to make of it. He placed one of the bowls in front of me and then sat down himself, beginning to eat in generous mouthfuls. I, however, remained still.

"Is your leg feeling any better?" he asked without looking up. When I didn't give him an answer, his eyes flicked in my direction. "Okay... I'll take that as a no." He shook his head, his lips curved upwards. "I hate to break this to ya, but I'm an expert at talking to girls who don't wanna talk to me."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"See?" he said with a cocky, yet soft grin. "Now eat your food before it gets cold."

I eyed him suspiciously. "You didn't poison this, did you?"

He paused just as he was about to bring another spoonful to his mouth."Guess you're gonna have to find out."

"Did you?" I pushed.

"Clementine, why would we waste all those supplies on your leg if we were planning to poison you right after?"

I shrugged. "Well it would be pretty ingeniously evil if you made me believe all is well and peachy, and then kill me when I'm not expecting it. As a result, all of my hopes would be wrenched out of my system. Don't you think that would be the ultimate revenge plot?"

Luke parted his lips, but no words came out at first. Maybe my response was a little...over the top, but hey, I was by myself for two year. Two solitary years have taught me to trust one person, and one person only; myself.

He shook his head with a chuckle. "Just eat your damn food, fruit girl."

With a grunt, I brought the oatmeal to my lips and chewed it as I tried to avoid Luke's eye contact. I felt weird when people watched me eat.

"I don't understand why you don't just kill me," I murmured.

"Do you _want _to be killed? Because I could really use the extra practice with my machete," he joked as he continued to down his food.

"Ha ha, very funny," I remarked sarcastically. "I'm serious."

His shoulders rose. "I don't know. It's just, you're on your own. You were probably just scared and all."

"I am NOT scared."

"Well I don't know, Clementine!" He threw his hands up in surrender. "You're too pretty to die, I guess."

I snorted. "That's a first."

"Look, I'm gonna talk it over with the rest of the group and we'll decided what happens," he told me. "You don't really deserve to die. You snuck into the cabin, sure, but you didn't hurt anyone."

"I stole food from you, snuck out of the shed and into the cabin, and tried to kill you once and Nick twice," I explained dully. Maybe I do have a death wish afterall.

Before he could reply, Nick entered the room with his rifle held in both his hands. He didn't acknowledge me, but shot Luke a glance as he made his way to one of the cupboards.

"Do you carry that dumb thing around everywhere you go?" I asked in a brassy tone.

He eyed me with coldness, but didn't reply. Instead, he set the gun on the counter and extended his long arms to reach into the cupboard, pulling out a bottle of water.

Luke shifted awkwardly before whispering to me, "I'm also an expert at talking to guys who don't wanna talk to girls. Just watch." He then turned to Nick. "Hey man, how do you communicate with a fish?"

The other guy, who had his back faced to us, shook his head before muttering, "You drop it a line." Luke grinned as Nick turned around and no longer had a glum look on his face. My gaze shifted back and forth between the two of them. They looked like goofs.

"Fishing jokes?" I questioned, unsure as of why they found it so funny.

"Pete's always telling them," Luke explained. "They're so pathetic that they've actually grown on us."

I nodded my head. "Uh huh."

He pushed his chair back and stood up with his bowl in his hand. I was just finishing my last bite when he came my way and gestured for the dish. I placed it in his free hand with an attempt of a smile (it didn't work out). I stood up from my chair, feeling as if my leg might collapse underneath me.

"Ya need any help?" Luke asked as he juggled the two bowls in his hands.

Regaining my composure, I replied, "No, it's fine."

He then glanced at Nick. "Can you go round everyone up for the meeting? I'm taking her to the couch." Nick nodded, exiting the kitchen with his rifle. Luke put the dishes in the sink as I leaned against the table, wincing in pain. "Here," he said and wrapped an arm around me.

I immediately swatted him off. "No, I'm fine."

He backed off, his hands no longer touching me, but instead held freely in the air. "Alright, alright."

I rolled my eyes and began limping towards the door, Luke staying close to me the whole time.

"I told you I'm fine!" I snapped.

"I know," he said, "but you can never be too careful."

That's exactly why I tried to shoot Nick. You can never be to careful.

When we finally made it into the living room, I lowered myself onto the couch. I felt my chest relax and I sighed. My eyelids grew heavy. It was probably a dumb idea to fall asleep at this time and place, but my body demanded it, and there wasn't much my mind could do to stop it.

And so I drifted off before anyone could do anything about it.

…

**A/N Whoop for long chapters! I'm sorry there's no vote this chapter, but it's already so long as it is and I didn't know how to keep it going. I hope you keep reading (*puppy dog eyes*). I'll definitely put one in next chapter and I'll try to make it good. **

**I hope I did an alright job with Clem's injury...I don't know a whole lot about gunshot wounds. **

**Please leave a review and tell me what you think because I'd really appreciate the feedback:) Thanks and sorry again for no vote :0 peeeace**


	4. The Quiet Game

**A/N HEY, IT'S BEEN A WHILE. I honestly don't have any excuses nor the brainpower to come up with a good excuse for not updating in ages. I'm just a little shit. And funny story, I tried making my own hat like Clementine's last weekend and it turned out pretty well...that is, until I put it on my head and realized that I made the D way too high! Oh well, I still feel like a badass when I wear it:) ANYWHO, I hope you find this chapter relatively interesting. And yes, I put a vote in this time :3**

…

I opened my eyes and immediately shut them again, groaning from the tapping sunlight on my face. How long was I asleep for? I couldn't believe it was already morning. Yesterday felt so far away, yet the pain in my leg sent an unwelcome reminder that I still had to cope with last night's events.

I opened my eyes, and kept them open this time. There was a red blanket placed neatly on top of me. Luke probably put it there after I dozed off; I could just picture his long, stocky fingers laying the knit sheet on me as I was somewhere else in a dreamless sleep. The cabin was quiet besides the small creak here and there. I know I had to talk to everybody, figure out what the plan was. Chances are they already discussed what to do with me last night. It wouldn't surprise me if they decided against me staying here, but I was hoping that maybe they made an exception, just until I was in better moving shape.

I was reluctant to get up, but I did so anyway, slowly placing both my feet on the sun-stained floor and hissing when my injured leg went down. I limped my way to the stairs – heck, it was more like a one-foot hop. Good thing it was my left foot that was shot, and not my right. I would have already fallen if it was the contrary.

A creak emerged from the top of the staircase, this one louder and more noticeable than the others. I looked up to find Sarah smiling through her rose-tinted glasses. "Hi Clementine," she said sweetly, descending down the steps and wrapping an arm around my waist.

"What are you doing?" I asked awkwardly, but didn't push her away. My voice sounded really hoarse and it felt a little bit sore when I talked.

"I'm helping you."

"Yeah, but why?" I was a complete bitch to Sarah last night, I don't understand why she was doing this. They were all being too nice to me after what I did (or tried to do), too forgiving.

"Because the bunny hop doesn't suit you."

I rolled my eyes, but let her lead me up the stairs without argument. Her hand rested on the small of my back, soft yet firm. She kept it like that as I clung onto the railing for further support. It wasn't like me to accept help so willingly. Ever since Lee died I hadn't relied on anyone besides myself. This felt strange...The kind of strange you feel when someone is speaking to you in a foreign language. But there was also a comfort to it. And that was even stranger.

"My dad said to keep my distance from you," Sarah stated casually.

"Well, you're a real good listener," I mumbled with sarcasm.

When we reached the top of the stairs, she let go and I rested my elbow on the rail. She crossed her arms in a confident manner. I wonder what this girl's deal was. She was always trying to look sure of herself, only I knew she wasn't. I saw the way her eyes widened with fear when I came into her room yesterday. I saw the way Carlos held onto her while she was crying over the shooting. She was just a naive little girl who wasn't aware of how bad the world's become. Part of me blamed her for it, but part of me also felt sorry. She should know what it's really like out there. She should know how to properly defend herself. A lot of it was her dad's fault; he should have taught her these things. But she should also be the one to take charge. It is her life afterall.

The door across from Sarah's room swung open, followed by the gloomy presence of Nick. He wore a baggy pair of black pants and no shirt. His shoulders looked a lot broader this way. He shot me a quick glance, nothing polite, but nothing rude.

Sarah grinned and chirped, "Morning, Nick!"

"Morning, Sarah," he said, scratching the back of his head as he made his way downstairs. He wasn't wearing his hat from yesterday. I kept my gaze on his back even though I could feel Sarah watching me.

"The bathroom's right there," she told me, pointing to the same room Nick was just in. "Water works, but only take what you need."

With a nod, I walked/limped into the bathroom, not thinking twice about shutting the door behind me. You never had to think about stuff like that these days; always close the door, always check the stalls at public restrooms, always be aware of your surroundings. It was like clockwork.

I twisted the handle to the sink and ran a little bit of water onto a damp cloth that I spotted lying around. The water was warm, but it felt refreshing as I swept the cloth across my gritty skin. I then washed my hands. The strains on my wrist were really visible when they were wet. I used to cut after Lee died, to keep myself from crying, but that was when I was weak. I was no longer weak.

I stepped back to get a good look of myself in the mirror. A pair of golden orbs stared back at me. It's been some time since I looked at my reflection. Couple weeks maybe. Last time I did there was this bright red zit in the center of my forehead. I was pleased to see that it had disappeared. My dark, curly hair was kept out of the way by two short ponytails. Lee taught me to keep it that way two years back. I hated the idea at first. I thought I was going to look like a boy. But now, I actually preferred it. I looked more mature this way. Like I can handle myself.

When I reached for the doorknob to leave, I heard the sound of footsteps growing closer and closer. And then I heard someone say, "That man sometimes, I swear!" Right away, I could tell it was Rebecca. She was the only woman in this house, the only person whose voice was coated with bitterness. Except Nick's maybe. But this wasn't him.

I don't know why, but I jumped behind the blue shower curtain, pissing off my leg in the process. There was a part of me – a huge part of me – that didn't want to face Rebecca. It wasn't cowardice, I was just mentally exhausted despite all the sleep I got last night.

I was really hoping that she wasn't going to pee.

The first thing she did when she came in was throw her hands over her head. "Dammit," she muttered. I watched silently as she walked over to the sink. "Just need to have this baby and...oh God." I never heard her sound this sad. She splashed water all over her face before whispering, "Let it be okay and...and...let it be his."

I stood there without saying a word, even though all I wanted to do was ask her what the hell she was talking about. It was already clear to me that Rebecca and Alvin had a strong bond, but Luke confirmed it last night when he told me that they were married. He clearly stated that the baby was Alvin's...and if it wasn't...then whose could it be?

Rebecca then sniffed and straightened her posture before leaving the room. I waited a moment before coming out of my hiding spot. This was bullshit. Keeping a secret like that from the others was one thing, but how could she lie to her husband about this? He shouldn't have ownership over a child without knowing if it's his or not. I wanted to find her and give her a good shake so she'd snap to her senses. If this was really true, it'd only be a matter of time before it blew up in her face.

Her peeing wouldn't have been so bad afterall.

Sarah had returned when I stepped back into the hallway. She insisted that I eat breakfast, but I told her how I needed to talk to someone with authority first, either Luke, Peter, or Carlos. But I guess they must have all gone downstairs while I was washing up because Sarah said that they were in the kitchen. She offered to help me walk again, but this time I declined.

When I made it to the kitchen (the walk took a lot longer than it should have), five pairs of wide-set eyes turned towards me. They had all stopped chewing whatever they had in their bowls. Nobody said anything at first. I just kind of stood there awkwardly, waiting for someone to speak up. Even if it was Rebecca, I wouldn't have minded. That much, anyway.

Pete was the first to speak. "Saved you some," he said, picking up a bowl in the center of the table.

Rebecca didn't stick around, and like a lost puppy, Alvin followed her out of the room. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him how his wife was keeping such a huge secret from him. But I didn't. I couldn't because I wasn't stupid enough to start drama that didn't need to be started in the first place.

I sat down where Alvin was sitting before; beside Carlos and an empty chair that soon became Sarah's. Luke and Nick (who now had a shirt on) were sitting on top of the table since there wasn't enough chairs, and Pete smiled across from me.

"How's the leg doing?" he asked.

"It's fine," I said, even though it really wasn't. It didn't sting like it did last night, now it just had this constant, ongoing soreness.

"Tough girl," Luke commented with a sly smirk on his face.

"What happened to fruit girl?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it. That nickname was made up by Satan himself.

He chuckled. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Thanks for reminding me Clem, or should I say...fruit girl." I rolled my eyes as I began to eat my oatmeal.

"Sorry we don't have a wide-ranged menu," Pete said.

"Oatmeal's fine," I said. "Anything's fine." It was true. I would eat liver everyday as long as it meant not living off scraps, and I hated liver.

Carlos had finished his breakfast and was taking his bowl to the sink. He said with his back facing me, "I'll give you some antibiotics when you're finished eating. It should help with your wound."

"Thanks," I mumbled as I continued to eat my meal. I looked over at Sarah, and she was wolfing her oats down like it was water. I couldn't imagine what she'd be like as an alcoholic.

Pete announced that he needed to go take a piss (real discreet huh), and Carlos left the room shortly after, like he had nothing better to do. He glared at me on his way out, but I just pretended like I didn't see it.

Nick, Sarah, Luke, and I were all that was left. I was the only one who was still eating, and it was awkward because once again, no one was saying anything. I wanted to know what they decided on last night. The question made me anxious, like a bad bug bite I was just itching to get rid of.

"Nick," Sarah said keenly, "will you come with me to see the secret room that my dad was talking about?"

"It's not a secret room, Sarah," he explained. "It's just a bunch of dirt and crap under the house."

Her face was neutral for a moment before she beamed and said, "Cool!"

"Speaking of which," Luke said, "we need to cover that hole up so no more thieves can get in." He looked at me when he said thieves, and I sunk back into my chair. He had a way of making me feel small.

"I wanna go check it out!"

Nick groaned. "No Sarah, there's nothing interesting down there, just a bunch of junk."

"Is that true, Clementine?" Sarah goggled at me with hopeful eyes, but then I turned the other cheek and saw Nick giving me a look that said, _Don't say yes._

So of course, I said yes. He narrowed his eyes at me, which gave me just the tiniest bit of satisfaction. Sarah, on the other hand, was ecstatic.

"Come on, Nick! I wanna see it!"

"There's lurkers down there," he said, but Sarah was already clinging onto his arm.

"Then you'll just shoot them with your rifle."

"Just like you shot me with your rifle."

He pointed his finger at me. "You," he said. "You had it coming from a mile away." Before either of us could say anything else, Sarah had successfully dragged him out of the room. It was about time he said something to me.

Luke scratched the back of his head, an amused grin placed on his face. "How'd ya sleep, Clementine?"

I shrugged. "Alright."

"Alright? You were out like a candle in the wind when I went to check on ya."

I remembered something. "Did you by any chance...bring me a blanket while I was asleep?"

"No, wasn't me."

"That's strange. I wonder who did."

"Maybe it was Pete."

"Yeah, maybe."

But something told me it wasn't Pete.

I decided that now was a good time as any to bring up the events of last night, and figure out what they wanted to do with me. But before I could say anything, a high, feminine voice rang through the air.

"DAD! LUKE! SOMEBODY HELP!"

I turned to Luke, who looked just as shocked as I felt. He quickly hopped off the table and pulled out his machete. I tried to keep up with him as he burst through the kitchen door, but my leg was giving me hell.

As I headed for the room where the trapdoor was, I spotted Nick's rifle just sitting there on the table. This was actually a good time for him to be careless like that. I grabbed the gun just in case, and hopped the rest of the way (it was quicker than limping). I wondered where the others were; if they were already down there, or if they were somewhere else in the house. Sarah's scream was pretty loud, but probably not loud enough to hear if you were upstairs.

I carefully lowered myself under the porch, or the "secret room" as Sarah liked to call it. Carlos must have heard Sarah, because I could see him outside through the lattice, along with Nick, Luke, Sarah, and another man. The man wore all black, and had one hand clutching onto Sarah's arm, and the other wrapped against a gun that was pressed against her head. Carlos had his gun out, and same as Luke with his machete, but it didn't look like they were getting anywhere. I was the only one that the man couldn't see.

It occurred to me that I could do what I wanted to do last night. I could shoot Nick and the other cabin survivors, and then I wouldn't have to worry about anything. I could shoot that man too, say that he did it, and then kill the rest when they're not expecting it.

But that choice didn't seem right. These people helped me despite my ruthless actions. It was this man that was the problem. I needed to kill him, or at least get that gun out of his hand. I couldn't just sit there and wait.

**[AIM FOR HEAD]**

**[AIM FOR GUN]**

**A/N Leave your vote in the reviews! Your choice will make a pretty big difference in the story. Thanks for reading! Let me know if you're liking this story about CLEMentine without CLEMency...get it? XD lol nope. Anyway, thanks for stopping by. peeeace **


	5. Update

Sorry to anyone who was expecting a chapter update. I just wanted to clear a few things up. Normally, I don't like writing updates because I'm not some celebrity who everyone wants to stalk 24/7, and it makes me feel kinda...self-absorbed.

Yet here I am. Giving you an update.

I would like to start off by saying that I have most definitely discontinued "Shelter From The Nothing," because a) I over planned it to the point where I don't get excited to write, b) the writing was sloppy and rushed, and c) it doesn't include enough of the characters from the actual game which I'm not crazy about. I don't regret writing that story, it was fun and good for practice, but I've moved on.

Secondly, I'm contemplating whether or not I should call it quits on "Don't Look Back." Now, don't get me wrong, I love the Kenny/Clem concept of this one, but I'm not committed to it. At all. There is a chance I might go back to it, who knows. But as for now, no, I am not working on "Don't Look Back." (So please, don't ask me to update it.)

You can probably expect some more chapters of "The World Falls Dark." I enjoy writing it, I enjoy giving readers decisions, and I have many ideas for it...but not so much to the point where I get bored. I'll try to work on it some more.

The reason why I'm not quite as committed to fan fiction as I was before is because I'm working on my own story. This doesn't include The Walking Dead or Life is Strange. It is my own original story with original characters and an original plot. I can't say it's going to go anywhere, I'm simply doing it for fun and to express my creativity. Back to fan fiction; I prefer to write one-shots now because it's quicker and my head is a lot keener when it comes to them.

Okay, so I think that's it. I hope this didn't come off as narcissistic because I'm well aware that the world doesn't revolve around me and people behind screens don't _really _care about what I have to say on a personal level. I'm writing this more for me - I'll feel better if I have it out there.

Hope you all have a superb day!

peeeace


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